


monochrome

by kareofbears



Series: Escapril [29]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kareofbears/pseuds/kareofbears
Summary: The world started changing color around the time Ryuji saw how his dad treated his mom, and only went downhill from there.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: Escapril [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685116
Comments: 14
Kudos: 148





	monochrome

**Author's Note:**

> this isnt a ship fic. if anything, its more a character study of Ryuji and potentially what the world looked like for him prior to meeting the thieves, and his development forward after he does.

The world started changing color around the time he saw how his dad treated his mom, and only went downhill from there. 

He remembers watching her patch herself up, wrapping white gauze on bruises, small cuts, and how he forced himself to memorize her actions so he'll be able to do it for her next time. 

Thankfully, there wasn't a next time after that. 

While he was watching her, he noticed that she had looked paler, and the bruises seemed darker. He chalked it up as his father being more aggressive than usual and took that feeling to fuel his bottomless pit of pent up anger. 

The next time he noticed that something had changed, it was when Kamoshida had started raining the track team down with drill after drill, punishments thrown out like they were nothing, like they didn't plant something deep and dark in the hearts of every person on the track team, in the _school._

Ryuji had sat down one time, legs aching, looking up at the sky and blinked. Wasn't the sky a lot bluer than that? He tilted his head, and tried again in a different angle. It's not, _not_ blue, but something's off. It's as if all the blue parts of the blue seeped out, like someone poked a hole in it and the pigment started dripping out, drop by drop. 

The next time he looked up at the sky, it was from the view of his hospital room with a cast around his leg. Instead of the brilliant orange and red hues on the Tokyo sky, it almost just looked liked clouds that were scattered instead; different shades of gray, light, and dark. He stared at it for one moment, before looking away. 

A few months later, Ryuji found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, while his Ma snores at the next room over. It's dark; dark enough that the light streaming through the window made his ceiling look like pure snow. Dark and light. Black and white. All he sees is black, and white, and gray, and he can't see, he can't fucking _see_ anything else, why the fuck can't he—

He sits up suddenly, heart racing. On a whim, he throws the blanket off of him and marches to the door. His eyes slide to his Ma's bedroom as he shrugs on his jacket, considers telling her that he's leaving. He puts on his shoes and heads out the door. No, she's probably exhausted. 

The neon sign of the convenience store near his apartment gets ignored as Ryuji steps in, swipes a box of bleach, and goes to the cash register. 

Two hours later, after barely reading the box and making a huge mess in the bathroom that he needs to clean up before his Ma sees it, Ryuji's staring in the mirror, face blank. His once pitch-black hair is freshly bleached, and still dripping from his shower. 

He doesn't see it. 

Yes, he knows it's supposed to a yellowish color, but he doesn't fucking see it, all he sees is, fuck, like, white or gray or something but it's not—it's still not color and now he just fucked up his hair for no reason, and he looks _stupid_ and he can hear the whispers in the hallways getting louder, and fuck, he's so stupid, everyone's right, and he's just so tired, he just wants to see color again—

Ryuji turns around and slams his fist into the drywall of his bathroom, breathing heavily. 

He is so, so tired. 

\----

Ryuji had stopped hoping to see color after that. 

\----

Then, on the rainiest, grayest, cloudiest day of the year, he meets Kurusu Akira. 

He's wearing the Shujin school uniform, pressed and properly put on. Black hair, the palest skin he's ever laid eyes on, and deep, expressive gray eyes. He's black and white no matter how you put it, and the word that popped into Ryuji's mind when he first saw him was 'monochrome.' 

Then they find a Palace and his teacher is in nothing but his underwear and a crown. After that, there's not much room for Ryuji to think about anything. 

\----

Ryuji likes hanging out with Akira. 

He's funny, he's clever, he's smart, and he's a cheeky little shit. Ryuji finds himself being drawn to him, a moth to a flame, and in times where they don't infiltrate the Palace or Mementos, Ryuji finds himself spending time with Akira.

It's...nice. Really nice.

\----

It took until they're nearly done Kamoshida's Palace when Ryuji realizes that his Skull gloves are yellow. 

The pigment was faded, and yeah, it's just as likely to be pink, but they weren't gray. 

It starts to get better after that.

\----

Ann's eyes are blue, while Yusuke's hair is nearly black. Futaba's hair is bright orange, and Makoto's irises are red. Haru likes to wear pink sweaters, and Morgana's scarf is yellow.

They're still dull, boring, bland, but they're decipherable; they're different from each other now, in ways that Ryuji had honestly stopped believing in. It's slow, but every day, Ryuji starts to see different tones and shades and hues, and every day, Ryuji's excited to wake up and see what's new. 

The strange thing is, though, even now that Ryuji's starting to see color, Akira's still as monochrome as he was back when he first saw him. It makes Ryuji want to look closer, to see if, just like everyone else, Akira is hiding color somewhere up his sleeve. 

And the closer Ryuji looks, the more he sees.

Akira has messy hair, curls on top of curls on top of curls; despite that, they're almost unfairly soft. His glasses are fake, and Ryuji laughed and tried them on. His fingers are long, dextrous, deft, and he wonders absent-mindedly if he played the piano before coming to Tokyo. He's flexible, and he will absolutely find any chance to demonstrate his splits if someone asks—Ryuji thinks he's just a massive showoff. 

Ryuji doesn't see color in him, despite all his observations, so he tries harder, insisting that, surely, this boy would have at least _some_ color in him. He has to know.

After all, why else would Ryuji be watching this closely?

\----

It's the night after they finish Shido's Palace that Ryuji notices that Sojiro's shirt is really, really bright pink. 

He looks around, eyes widening, and he can't help but notices just how _red_ Makoto's eyes are. They're almost like roses, like someone injected some radioactive substances in them and made them really, really red. Holy crap, are Ann's eyes _that_ pale? It's like ice!

Slipping away to the bathroom at Leblanc, Ryuji stares at himself in the mirror, and nearly chokes.

His hair is so damn _blond._

He runs back and wildly takes in everything in front of him. Look at that _plant_ , it's so fucking green. Jesus, does Sayuri actually look like that? No wonder Yusuke's been raving about it. Whoa, Haru's jacket is such a nice color. He must look crazy, but he doesn't care, because—because—

There's _color._

His eyes land on Akira again, and smiles. Yeah, still no color. Just as monochrome as the day he met him. Sliding back next to him, he stares at Akira for a second, before slinging his arm around him. 

Akira quirks his eyebrow at him, a silent question. _You okay?_

Ryuji opens his mouth, and instead, lets out a bit of a dry sob. For the rest of the night, he babbles like an idiot, thanking Akira, trying to express how fucking grateful he is that he's in his life, to bring something back in his life that he thought was gone forever. That he was the reason he can see life for what it really is, to include him on something he was missing out on ever since his dad and Kamoshida and everything happened. 

He must've looked like the world's biggest idiot, but Akira's there, smiling like he understands every single incoherent word that's coming out of his mouth. 

Ryuji almost tells him everything. That every single hangout he's had, every moment he spent with Akira, everything added up to Ryuji being able to see, to really _see_ again. That the reason that Akira is monochrome in this world of color is the same reason why diamonds have to be clear; all it takes is a little light, and color shoots out in every direction, coating everything in a bright array of hues and rays and shades and tones that Ryuji gave up on. 

He doesn't tell Akira. At least, not yet.

It's enough for Ryuji to know though, to understand what's going through his confused heart and his throbbing head every time he tries to understand.

Akira doesn't carry color with him, but in Ryuji's eyes, he leaves rainbows everywhere he goes. And Ryuji would follow him anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe this is my second to last escapril fic. the one thing i pray that you learned about me during this 29 day span is that i love Ryuji. also the ending is absolutely inspired from that one picture from persona 5 royal that honestly made me tear up. 
> 
> Have a great day you good looking fiend


End file.
